


(Not) Saved by the Bell

by asahinayuuta



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3674838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asahinayuuta/pseuds/asahinayuuta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know you aren't pretty, but you don't know why Makoto Naegi has to say otherwise</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) Saved by the Bell

You stare in the mirror.

 

Your reflection is nothing like your sister’s.

 

You stroke your finger through your hair. Rough, black, and with split ends. No wonder your sister mocks you for it, it is nothing anyone would be lucky to have.

 

You try to count the blemishes on your face, each ugly, brown mark hideously painting your face, but you fail in counting them.

 

You glance at the make-up in your sister’s bag, but then your glance lands on your own - which is significantly less packed than hers, although you don’t mind, all you normally use is light foundation (but your freckles are too dark to fully cover up with that), eyeliner, and occasionally mascara.

 

You continue with your make-up, though nothing makes you “pretty”, unlike your sister, who is naturally gifted with the trait.

 

You continue through the morning with your usual routine - you eat, get dressed, and brush your teeth.

 

Your simple school uniform is what you dress in, adding no accessories of your own - unlike your sister, who wears a skirt shorter than regulation and ignores the ribbon for her tie.

 

_______________________________

  
  


Once you get to school, you spend your free period talking to Makoto Naegi, but the morning haunts you, reminding you constantly that you will never be pretty enough for him, never be as pretty as her, and never be prettier than you are now. You can’t even muster up a “pretty” personality.

 

You catch yourself stroking your own hair, and lightly feel you finger skim your cheeks. You rub a small amount of foundation in between your fingers, and then wipe it on your skirt - not caring about that, not like it is something of permanence - not like it is you, and how you appear, that is only how your close appear.

 

You remember the ugly colour of your eyes, the way the hideous pale blue looks, how it makes you blend into a crowd with how bland you are, how dull your appearance is. You rub your eye lightly, so only some make-up comes off.  

 

Makoto stops in the middle of his sentence, and you (hope you) don’t know why. “Yeah so it is really -” he stops, “Mukuro? A-are you okay? You just seem...off…” he trails off and you lay both of your hand respectively back in your lap. “I am fine” you lie, “I just...was taking some of the make-up off” you lie through your teeth. You look down guilty of the lie, and you can almost feel Makoto knowing that what you told him was not the truth, and you want to speak - want to tell him that it was a lie, but you don’t, you can’t. You just look down, your mouth closed.

 

“M-Mukuro...I...okay...if you say so…” he mumbles, and still...your words don’t work and all you can do is shake your head. At first your head moves left to right, very slowly, but then gains speed and he doesn’t know what to do, all you do is shake your head, not wanting to believe there are actually tears in your eyes.

 

He nears you, and tries to calm you down, and he does, but you keep you head hung, and speak “I...didn’t mean to lie...sorry” is all you manage and in a mumble. Although he is confused, he reassures you “its okay, its okay, don’t worry Mukuro!” he says, and you try to believe that, but you almost can’t. You look up at him.

 

You know your tears are gone now, but your face is still warm, and probably red and blotchy from the crying. You look at him. His eyes are beautiful. They mean more to you than anyone else’s and you are happy that you get to see them at this moment, but you need to focus. You need to tell him what is bothering you.

 

“I...am ugly” is all you manage, and he smiles. You don’t know what to think of it really, you can see it as a sort of smile given to you when you are wrong about something, almost like a pity smile, but you can’t call it that, not when it is from _him_.

 

“Mukuro! You...you aren’t ugly! ...you are beautiful, trust me, I know, you are the prettiest girl I know”, and your stomach turns. You didn’t know he thought that about you. “But...I’ll never be as pretty as my sister...or as...anyone else...I’ll always be just...same old, ugly me…” you tell him, and you bite your bottom lip. He looks at you, and touches your hair with his hand, twisting strands of it between his fingers. He didn’t seem to mind the ugliness of your hair, or how rough it was, he only seemed to care about comforting you - only seemed to care about the _personality behind_ the hair.

 

“Mukuro...you are the prettiest girl I have ever met, you are the only girl I want to say is the prettiest, and I am proud to say it…” he trails off, but covers up his embarrassment with a small smile, and you attempt one too.  He touches your cheek with his hand, and says, ever so lightly, “Mukuro, your smile, it is one of the most beautiful things about you, because you are so beautiful when you are happy” and you can feel yourself blush. You want to hang onto him and never let him go, make sure he can’t go. You want to be his for the rest of your lives, you want to call his smile yours, you want to call his eyes yours, and you want him to be able to call you his.

You look at him, and want to say something, want to speak, but all you do is smile, and you hope he can say something more. All he does is hug you. He is warm and comforting and you wish you knew what to say, you wish you weren’t so awkward. You wish you could say back, what he says to you.

 

“ _I love you_ ”, is all he whispers, and you let out a small sigh, and nod uncomfortably on his shoulder.

  
And then the bell signalling next period goes off. 


End file.
